


I keep you on my mind both day and night

by TotemundTabu



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pining, these tags are so OOC for me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-24 10:04:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13211457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TotemundTabu/pseuds/TotemundTabu
Summary: VERY light-hearted fanfic, wrote mostly because the Jon/Sam tag is so small! And I wanted more of them. Plus, side Throbb because if I don't put Theon and Robb, it's not me , right?





	I keep you on my mind both day and night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [janie_tangerine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/janie_tangerine/gifts).



> This is more or less written for Lavi/Janie, because I keep crying to her about how Jon and Sam need more stuff together but then I don't write it and she gave me the most beautiful fanfic with them for a rarepair exchange this Christmas and so I'm grateful, okay? u___u  
> I need to thank Mija because she beta-ed this in record time and was really patient with my mistakes.  
> The song title and sung is by Johnny Cash, you all know it probably but it was stuck in my head these days, so.

**I keep you on my mind both day and night**

 

* * *

 

 

_I find myself alone when each day is through._

_Yes, I'll admit I'm a fool for you..._

_because you're mine, I walk the line._

 

* * *

 

 

And Jon knew it was hopeless.

Because who in their right mind would fall in love with their straight best friend?

There was an intrinsic masochism in the matter, like twisting barbwire around your flesh and pulling it tight.

Problem was, every prickled spike just felt  _so good_ .

Sam smiling with his eyes beaming as he nerded out over Star Wars, Sam fumbling, all awkward, when he tried to overcome shyness to confess something, Sam letting out his stupidest sex jokes, Sam caressing books as he shared them with him … 

Every little fragment of Sam cutting his skin, piercing his flesh, just to sink in between his bones, felt like pure bliss in its torment.

Every and each one of Sam's smiles would hurt him so and at the same time give him such a pure, raw spoonful of happiness that Jon couldn't call the pain so, after all.

It was a pain he craved and, therefore, maybe, just the sourness that brings out the sweetness.

Jon just sat with that. He accepted it, for how illogical it was, for how stupid.

It's not like he had a choice, after all.

He had liked Sam since the first moment they met, stupidly, banally so, and he didn't seem to be able to find a way to tear out the barbwire – not the will to, at all, at least.

He sighed, staring at Sam who moved his pencil up and down, drumming it slightly on the desk, bored and nervous out of his mind.

“Don't be so worried. - Jon suggested with a soft smile – I am sure you will ace this exam too.”

Sam let out the most unconvinced smile ever.

How could Sam be in the top three students of the university and still feel insecure before every fucking exam was beyond Jon; sometimes he had to see him whining and crying that “ah for sure they'll fail me” except of course he would come back with a 100/100 score, the damn genius. 

Not that Jon was  _bad_ . He just had some subjects he was more gifted for, like all normal human beings who didn’t secretly have a giant brain.

“I mean... - he let out weakly – My father was so against me coming here. If I fail, I'm also wasting his money, you know?”

Jon knew enough about Sam's father that he wanted to strangle him. 

He wished Sam would also realize that most, if not all, that came out of the mouth of that man were lies and emotional abuse, but he knew that to people like Sam – who also experienced a more physical, more bloody kind of show offs from his father – the emotional part, for how it was probably the one that cut deeper, always felt less wrong, almost a blessing, almost kind in comparison.

His father was also barely paying for the University. Sam's mother forced him to give a contribution but Sam had been working his ass off since the first year.

But Jon couldn't say that, because he knew that it was not the point where the pain came from.

He swallowed dry and slow, trying to find the most... friendship-like version of the sentence he wanted to actually say.

_You're not a waste. You're the best thing that ever happened to this damn school. To me._

“You're not wasting anything. - and he looked away, trying to keep his heart from hardening from the bitterness of censoring itself – Most people fail at least one or two exams over the years, you never once did.”

Sam smiled, softer, truer this time.

“Thank you, Jon.”

“Don't mention it...”, he smiled back.

There were times like that, in which Sam would just smile and Jon would think of kissing him hard, biting his lips, dragging moans out – he craved to hear Sam's voice more than anything else... and to feel him, feel him _his_ .

Without noticing, his eyes fell once again, nailed magnetically, to Sam's lips.

He was so pretty.

How are humans so oblivious allowed to be so pretty? That was hard to decide.

His soft, plump cheeks looked so pink and his body looked so tender, made to be bitten and adored – Jon hated how Sam kept hiding himself under heavy sweaters and hoodies, until his shape was barely perceivable in all its curves. It's like he wanted to appear shapeless, like a blob, when he was lagoons and waves with harmony in every line.

Sam's lips quivered.

“Do I have something on my mouth?”, he asked, panicking already.

_A kiss I hadn’t given you yet_ , he wanted to answer.

He gulped down. Had he been smooth, he would have said that or rubbed Sam's lips with his thumb, pretending there had been something on them, and then kiss him.

Instead he just stared, like the fucking idiot he was.

“Jon's eyes glued. - a voice took them by surprise, making them turn, and a smirk welcomed them – You're lucky you're not wearing a v-neck or he would have probably lost them rolling in your chest.”

Theon Greyjoy, of course.

Jon groaned, angry. Sam looked down to the floor, embarrassed, while shame stained his face red; seeing that Jon went full-on defence mode.

“Don't you have some sad forty year old to seduce?”

Okay, that came out lamer than predicted.

Theon laughed and came closer, sitting right next to Sam, with a wicked gleam in his eyes that was turning Jon's blood into wildfire.

“Let's say if later Miss Jackson is in a great mood during her lesson, you know who to thank.”

Sam turned, a bit surprised, poor, pure soul, “The contemporary philosophy professor?”

Theon's grin widened as a wolf seeing a pretty sheep to eat.

Jon stiffened, unsure if that... if that should have really made him angrier than the perspective of Theon mocking Sam out of cruelty. 

“Yup. Anyway. - Theon said, leaning slightly closer to Sam – I hope you did not take that as an offence, you have a beautiful bosom, I'm not surprised Snow got mesmerized by it.”

Jon meditated on homicide's ethics in the context of Theon Greyjoy existing.

Sam simply let out a laugh, not taking him seriously at all.

How blind he was.

Theon, then, glanced at Jon, with a mix of hilarity and mock on his face.

“What do you want, Greyjoy?”

“Quit the yapping, puppy. - he snickered – I'm taking this class.”

Sam turned, blinking, inexplicably happy. “Really?”

Theon nodded, taking out of his bag a notebook.

Jon rolled his eyes in annoyance for the disgrace, but when he saw Sam smiling at Theon his heart sunk a bit deeper and felt heavy.

Against someone like that... he couldn't compete.

His stomach burnt and twisted. Barbwire clenching it, sinking in.

 

*

 

Robb leaned on the door of his room, smiling.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”, Jon replied, dull, laying on the bed with the headphones still on.

Robb frowned and moved to the bed, sitting next to him, “What's wrong? You look like a mess.”

“Nothing. - Jon lied, poorly, his voice sullen and a pair of bags under the eyes livid and bruised – What's up?”

Robb grinned, radiating light.

“Well, I have some good news!”

“Of course you do...”

Robb furrowed his eyebrows, confused, “You know, if you have to be so negative, you might as well just speak up.”

“Are you really telling me not to be passive-aggressive?”

Robb rolled his eyes, “Look, Kurt Cobain, I can't read your mind, and I would like to help, c'mon, spit it out.”

Jon groaned but obeyed, ultimately he did need to let out stuff.

“Now. - he said – I know this may come as a surprise to you, but I like someone and...”

“Sam. - Robb interrupted, unimpressed – Go on.”

Jon stiffened, “How?”

“I have eyes. Go on.”

“Well, that's it... - he sighed, taking off his headphones finally – I like him, a whole fucking lot.”

“Then tell him?”

“I don't even know if he likes boys. I mean. - his cheeks stung and he lowered his eyes – I think he does, but... there is this other guy in the course right now and he's hitting on him and...”

Robb interrupted him, “You... never asked your best friend what he likes?”

Jon stared at him in incredulity, “Well, how was I supposed to do it without coming out to him? I mean, I didn't want to come off as... as if I was liking him or stuff.”

“...but you do.”

“That's beside the point.”

Robb frowned, “Has he had a girl since you’ve known him?”

“He hasn’t had relationships of that kind. - Jon mumbled – He's super insecure, he's sure nobody would like him or something like that.”

Robb looked confused, “But he's pretty?”

“Eh. Bullying stuff.”

“Shit.”

Jon sighed, “Maybe I should wait and see how he reacts to this guy but... he's so handsome and smooth and I'm...”

“...yourself.”

“Thanks, Robb.”

A little mischievous smile, “Well, you’re super awkward with crushes. And I am the one pointing it out, I mean...”

Robb was not per sé awkward but he could be a huge dork at times, so yeah it was pretty much a big offence.

Jon sighed, “What should I do?”

“Ask him out?”, Robb suggested as if it were the most obvious thing ever.

“A practical solution which I could manage, please?”

Robb stared at him and realized that Jon was enough of a desperate case to need a bit more help.

“Why don't you invite him to come to our concert?”

“Uh?”

“We’re playing at the Dropkick next Friday, tell him to come and, when you're both full of beer, ask him about his taste.”

Jon stared at Robb a long while, squinting his eyes gradually.

“You're a damn genius.”

 

*

 

Thing was, Jon was horrible at sticking to plans. Especially when Theon was around.

He unnerved him so deeply, that Jon just found himself doing the most stupid, irrational things just to get away from the situation.

Sam and Theon were discussing something... animatedly? Like they looked both so excited, Theon Greyjoy had almost dropped his perpetual smirk and was smiling? Was this his technique with poor people like Sam who didn't know any better? 

As Theon saw him, though, he took again that shit-faced, smug, mocking grin.

“Oh, hello, gravedigger.”

Jon groaned, “You know, I would have expected better jokes from someone who unironically goes around with a David Bowie T-shirt.”

Theon rolled his eyes and groaned.

“Whatever, Snow. - he turned to Sam and winked to him – I'll see you.”

Jon felt the veins in his hands burn and the need to punch Theon's face into the moon rising, but he suppressed them as he saw Sam, looking at him in cheerful curiosity.

“Something up? You look nervous.”

Damn Sam and reading people...

Jon cleared his voice, prepared to expose the many various reasons for which, undoubtedly, they should have dated, at least try to and, sure, it was going to be amazing at the concert and...

And Sam looked so pretty, Jon felt the earth miss from under his feet.

He stared a moment too long at Sam's lips, imagining how he would have looked singing his lungs out, relaxing, as if nothing could even scrub through him.

“I, hm, Robb is playing at the Dropkick and-”

“Oh! That's so cool! - he exclaimed, but, as he met Jon's frozen glance, he wondered if he had done anything wrong – People still say _cool_ , right?”

Jon's throat let out an uncomfortable groan, as he tried to gather his courage again after having been interrupted.

“Yes, and, uh, I was thinking maybe you'd like to come.”

Sam's eyes shone and his full cheeks seemed to brighten.

Jon smiled, feeling a weird elation, a brisk of courage, a shard of chance. And, as he opened his mouth again to add “with me”, Sam's voice came to him like an hammer on the face.

“Can Theon come too?”

Jon felt his stomach clench, his mouth run dry and bitter.

All that came out of him was a high.-pitched, distressed, stretched and stranded, “....Greyjoy, really?”

Sam nodded, though he looked mortified now, “I know you don't like him much.”

_That's the euphemism of the year... and it's you who like him too much,_ he thought.

“Why do I feel there is a but.”

“But. - Sam laughed, then smiled tenderly – He's... sort of a friend?”

“Sort of?”

“I mean. - Sam started fidgeting and poking his fingers together – I don't... usually say it before other people do, you know? Because what if I consider them friends but they don't? I want to... you know... be sure. But I feel like maybe we are?”

Jon sighed deeply.

Sam, dear, sweet, unaware Sam...

“Theon Greyjoy doesn't have friends. He has ex one nightstands and fuckbuddies.”

“Maybe he needs one?”, Sam suggested, shyly, smelling something very wrong with Jon's mood. Well, more than usual.

“Maybe he wants to fuck you.”

Sam seemed to stiffen and his voice came out metallic, “I somewhat doubt that.”

Was he bitter over it? Did he crave it? Theon? Of all people, Theon?

“Why?”  
Sam didn't reply, his eyes shone in resentment and humiliation. Instead he swallowed down and forced himself to smile and look serene, “Can't we accept him? Why don't you want him?”

And then Jon did the bullshit ofc.

Why? Because thinking was not his forte when Sam was around.

His voice came out strangled and rushed in a knot of embarrassed hail, “Ygritte is going to be there and I didn't want to look still single, so I was wondering if you could come as my date. - cowardness sunk in – My fake date.”

_Shit._

Jon bit his lips, sure that it would have been clear it was an excuse, a stupid lie. He squished his eyes closed, while Sam's ones widened.

“Oh.”

“...look, I –”

“Jon, I'm so sorry. - he started, his hand on Jon's shoulder – I remember how hard it was for you to break up with Ygritte, I thought since you remained friends... that you were okay now...”

“I... - Jon was not sure how to continue lying after. Due to some miracle the first lie fell into the basket, but he felt slippery ice under his feet and just ravined into his own words – I am fine, but she has this new companion and I don't and... I don't want her to think I'm not fine, you know?”

“I guess. - Sam blinked – I mean, I never really.... but I'm guessing.”

Jon bit his lips, guilt sinking in.

_But._

But, ah, the idea of getting what he wanted.  _Please, please, please..._

Sam smiled, “I can fake being your boyfriend, Jon, of course, I can.”

“R-really?”

“Sure. - he shrugged, smiling wide – You would do it for me. - a weird look – I'm just... are you sure? Me? Isn't it a bit of a downgrade from Ygritte?”

_Did this man pour bleach in his eyeballs when he was five or he never had a mirror in his life?_

“...Sam, you wouldn't be a downgrade from anybody.”

“I'm not really the best catch.”

_You're a dream._

“You're my best friend. - ouch, it hurt to say it – And if someone would change anything about you, they're crazy.”

Sam gave him the smile of someone who doesn't believe a single word, but wants the topic abandoned, so he then glanced around and then at Jon again, “... what does one wear at concerts?”

 

*

 

Sam learned soon that people wore all kinds of stuff.

Jon, though, liked to be … excessive, to put it nicely.

He was darker, blacker and more full of metal on the face than usual. Not that Sam disliked it per sé, it was just... weird to think there could be a Jon more in black than the Jon he was used to.

Sam before then had been only to classical concerts, since his mother insisted on him picking up the viola at a young age, but anything after Stravinsky – actually him included – had been branded as “nothing but garbage” by his father. He sort of discovered modern music when the internet happened.

And Jon, well, since they met Jon always gave him a bunch of music to listen to. He discovered he did like a lot of stuff, actually, that his father would have classified as “heretic gay whining” or “hellish noise”.

Including Robb's band.

Jon was quite proud of it, though he did seem to have a good inch of jealousy towards the half-brother.

Sam knew the feeling. Although differently.

He did not envy his brother, just how naturally he would be loved, while he, whatever he did or tried to be, would always find himself with hands striving and stretching in the void.

Jon was very beloved, just... he did not see his own worth. Sam always found it a bit laughable.

“Guys!”

Jon turned to Robb with a little smile, “Oh my god, a rockstar is honoring us with his presence.”

Robb let out a fake laugh, “I forgot how to laugh. - he turned to Sam – Hey! You came!”

Sam nodded, enthusiastically, “Thanks for having me!”

“Pft, please. - he laughed – If we fill the place, maybe the next gig will be decently paid. You're the one helping us.”

Sam smiled, “Then I'm glad. Hopefully also Theon will come soon.”

Robb frowned, “Theon?”, he looked at Jon and found him sighing and looking at him so sorely.

He guessed and clacked his jaw.

“A friend from university?”

Sam nodded, “Yes, I told Jon to allow him to come. He's a great guy, once you get to know him.”

Jon looked sour and started furrowing his eyebrows in the broody face, so Robb decided to take it into his own hands.

“Oh, c'mon, don't make Jon jealous!”

As he said it, Jon sprayed half his beer out of his mouth, showering him.

“...Jon, what the fu-”

Sam blinked and then slammed his fist on his hand as he thought he got it, “Ah, right! Cause I'm his pretend boyfriend for Ygritte! - he laughed – You're right, I have to stay in character! - he turned to Jon then – But really, I don't get why you'd be jealous of Theon. I mean, he's just a friend, like you.”

That stung.

Robb, though, gave Jon a glare that almost burned him to death.

“Right. - Robb said, groaning, upset his plan got clearly ruined by Jon's awkwardness, why did he have to always fix people up when they couldn't even follow the simplest instructions? – In case, when he comes, introduce us...”

Sam nodded, bright.

“He will love your stuff, I already know.”

Robb laughed and then, as his voice turned into an embarrassed growl, he looked at Jon, “Can I speak with you for one second?”

“Jon!”

Jon and Sam turned towards Ygritte, who was more or less jumping in their direction, excited and slightly drunk already.

Robb groaned, trying to think of another route to save his half-brother's ass from the mess he made, when his eyes fell behind Ygritte, to the guy waving at Sam.

Oh fucking fuck.

Now he got what Jon was worried about.

“Sam, this is Ygritte. - Jon introduced – Ygritte, Sam. - he gulped dryly and decided to exploit the situation to do what he had wanted to do since months and looking at Ygritte and Theon behind her, he put his arm around Sam's shoulders and proclaimed, loud – My boyfriend.”

Robb didn't miss a little hurt flinch in Theon's eyes.

Sam seemed altogether too embarrassed, but he laughed a lot and Jon looked radiant next to him.

Robb had to admit he had never seen him that happy, even it being pretence.

But he couldn't help but seeing the other guy's looks, which he threw at Jon, with a mix of jealousy and bitterness.

… could it be that Jon didn't understand anything at all about his real intentions?

It wouldn't have been the first time.

He then thought of introducing himself but, as he moved towards him, Dacey, their drummer, yelled at him to come to start.

“So how long since you two are together?”, Ygritte asked, enthusiastic to see her ex finally happy.

“Couple of months.” and “Just some weeks.” is what came out, from Jon and Sam respectively, in synchrony.

Ygritte frowned, confused.

“I mean... - Sam panicked – We started seeing each other a couple of months ago, but only since... some weeks it's official.”

“Oh! - she smiled in understanding – Adorable! Jon, how did you realize you liked him? Did he also hit you in the face with a volleyball like I did?”

“...no.”

Sam let out a small snort, “Is this what happened?”

“Maybe. But no. - Jon's cheeks got stained in a slight pink – He was... studying in the library for an exam and he was so focused on his book and he turned the pages so delicately and … it occurred to me I never met someone so passionate about the stuff we studied. - he gulped down – Like... people at University often use studying to feel superior or to accumulate knowledge but always look so... dull. - he looked away, trying to avoid Sam's now widened eyes – Sam always looked like he had fun. As if those books were the most exciting, thrilling thing ever to him.”

Sam's bottom lip quivered slightly and he swallowed his own dried silence.

Theon's sharp smirk, though, pierced through Jon.

“Oh, how cheesy. - his glance fell on Sam – And you, Sam? How did you find out?”

Sam fidgeted and turned shy, suddenly caught in his inability to either speak the truth or make up a lie.

Jon turned to Theon, infuriated, “Listen here, you little shit...”

But he stopped, interrupted just by Robb's voice at the microphone, interrupting midsong to yell, “No fist fighting in the venue, for fucks sake!”

As Jon lowered his fist, Theon turned finally towards the stage, and, as he looked at Robb, with a little fluttering, lost, expression, Jon of course decided that had to be the proof of how shallow he was and how little he actually would have cared for Sam. 

It made his blood run harder and burn his paper veins.

“Who is... that?”

“My brother, Greyjoy.”

“....oh fuck my life. - he scoffed and then chuckled – Must really be my no day.”

“Maybe if you stopped behaving like a piece of shit, karma wouldn't hit you.”

“Oh, really? - he raised an eyebrow, his grin got wicked – And what does karma do with liars?”

Jon was caught off-guard and moved away.

Sam and Ygritte just stared at them, with surprise and confusion.

Sam frowned, looking at Jon.

What would Jon ever lie about?

Robb's voice woke him from his thoughts, once again.

“Since you all seem to be a bit too much into fighting, maybe we should sing something a tiny bit more romantic and soothing, what do you say? - he laughed into the microphone – Who likes covers, uh? Let's see if this one you like.”, he turned to Dacey, Jaime and Brienne and mumbled something.

Sam turned to Theon, and, keeping his voice low, he held his arm, “What were you speaking about?”

“ _I keep a close watch on this heart of mine... I keep my eyes wide open all the time_.”

Theon felt a weird clench holding his heart, disappointment running through it and as sour seafoam his hit palate, he sighed.

“Nothing important. - he smirked – I'm sure Snow will give a more convincing version.”

And he almost walked away, as his mind just stared recording the words sung towards them, soft, dark and dense like august rain drowning wine.

“ _I keep the ends out for the tie that binds_...”

He glanced back at the stage, at the man singing with a guitar in his hands, singing with a voice of pulsing blood and desire.

Damn fucking Jon Snow.

“ _Because you're mine, I walk the line_.”

Sam moved towards Jon, “What's going on here?”, he asked, trying to keep his voice level-headed.

“Nothing, you know how much of a drama queen he can be. - Jon mumbled, while not being totally able to hide his shame – He … probably decided I was lying about something.”

“Maybe he misunderstood something. - Sam insisted – I'll go speak to him.”

Jon tried to stop him, but couldn't and Ygritte came closer to him.

“I know what you're thinking. - Jon stopped her – But I didn't lie.”

Her eyes gleamed, “I can tell when you lie, Jon. And also when you say the truth for the first time. - she sipped her beer – You two do look good together, though.”

“...really?”, he was confused.

_Did she not notice for real or is she seeing if I'll admit something?_

“You complete each other in harmony. - she mumbled, staring at Sam, who was looking for Theon – If I were you, I'd take the risk.”

“Which risk?”

She gave him a knowingly look and raised an eyebrow. “You know which.”

 

*

 

Jon looked around, confused. Behind them, the voices, the screams, neon lights obscuring the moonlit blue. He found Sam on a bench, sitting down and staring at the ground.

He moved closer, keeping his gaze low.

“Hey.”  
“Hey...”, Sam replied, tiredly.

Jon sucked his lips “So... how do you feel?”

Sam looked to him, “I'm sorry I went out, I just... - a sigh – I couldn't find Theon and I felt bad staying inside.”

Jon felt a thorn twist in his chest. Was Theon really so important to Sam?

“Jon...”

“Yes?”  
“I know you don't like Theon, but I don't make friends easily. - he pointed out, looking at his chubby hands – I spent my childhood with people making fun of me or using me for homework... and I know you were a bit of a lonewolf, but one thing is attitude and one is wanting friends... and not having them. - his lips looked wet as he suckled them – I don't want to have my friends fight with each other.”

Jon frowned, feeling sorry. He bit his bottom lip to the blood.

He couldn't look at Sam.

But he could feel him trembling in the night.

“I don't have enough to lose them for silly reasons.”

Jon looked at his hands and breathed in, letting out a low groan, “You're right, I'm sorry.”

Sam looked at him, staring, confused, “Can I know at least... why you’re so angry at him?”

“He's... easy.”

“I know you're a bit of a prude, but...”

Jon flinched, blushing, “I'm not a prude! - he yelled – I just believe that fucking around is not the.... god, I'm a prude.”

Sam nodded solemnly, sucking his lips.

“Yup.”

“...I. - a sigh – I decided he was going to hit on you, which is stupid because, even if he was.... I mean...”

Sam snorted, scoffing, “Theon Greyjoy is a bit out of my league. - a little, cheeky smile showed his dimples – Plus, he seemed more interested in Robb.”

“He's not out of you league.”, Jon blurted out, ignoring the second part.

“Jon... - Sam raised an eyebrow – I know you're my friend, but have you seen me?”

_God, you fucking beautiful, stubborn, smart idiot. I've been looking at you until my eyes burnt._

Jon shook his head, it's not like he could say that.

“Why? Are you... interested in him?”

Sam lowered his look, “No, not really. He's not my... type.”

Jon's heart clenched uncomfortably tight.

“...but you are...”

“Bi.”, Sam said a bit too quickly, maybe because he needed that word to spill out of him before he could think and take it back, and then nailed his eyes to the ground.

Jon swallowed, dry.

“You could have told me, given I'm too and I told you.”

“I didn't want you to think I was hitting on you...”

_Oh, that would be too good to be true._

Jon sighed, “I'm... not so conceited. - he scratched his chin, embarrassed – Plus, I don't see why you would be into me when... well.”

“Well?”

“...Theon Greyjoy is an option.”

“He's not an option.”, Sam blurted out.

_That's not the answer I wanted._ A sigh.

“Well, he exists.”

“So does Adam Driver.”

“Excuse me? - Jon snorted – Don't tell me that gloomy guy is your type.”

Sam pouted, defensive and crossed his arms, “He is... not canonically attractive, but he has his charm...”

Jon frowned.

_He's super tall and super square faced and has giant shoulders and I'm a short babyfaced thing._

_Could I be any more different?_

“Yeah, a Picasso charm.”

“You're being mean. - Sam snorted, then let out a small chuckle – But, yeah, I'm not into _Theon_.”

Jon let out a relieved smile, “So... we could...”

“...keep being fake boyfriends? - Sam smiled, almost moved – Of course.”

… _what did I do bad in my past life to deserve this._

“Thank you, bro.”

“Don't worry. - Sam laughed at hearing that – Bro.”

_Can the spear of Longinus pop up from the sky and pierce me or something?_

 

*

 

Robb gave him a sideways, disappointed look. 

They entered the bedroom and Robb just threw his bag on the bed and took off his jacket in silence, Jon glancing at him, nervously preparing for the scolding to come.

“You lied to him all evening, uh.”

There it was.

“In my defense. - Jon started – I chickened out.”

Robb raised an eyebrow, then frowned, moving his hands towards the outside.

“That's not a defense.”

“Look. - Jon groaned, throwing himself on the bed – I couldn't manage. I tried.”

Robb crossed his arms and sat on his own bed, staring at Jon annoyed.

“Then what's your solution? Wait more?”

Joan breathed out, annoyed, “You are informed you're not my mom, right?”

Robb scoffed, “Oh, sorry if you behave like a four year old. - he scolded him – Tell the truth to Sam, he likes you, stop playing around.”

“How can you say he likes me?”

“Well, I clearly can tell who likes you better than you do.”

“...and what would this mean?”

“That you're an idiot. - he yelled – And you owe that guy, Theon, an apology for behaving like a twat.”

“I'm not apologizing to Theon!”, Jon whined, outraged.

“You hurt his feelings!”

“Vampires don't have feelings.”

“Jon-”

“Look. - Jon blurted, annoyed – I don't know what's up with you and intruding in on other people's lives but calm down your inner control freak. I'll speak to Sam, I just need... the right moment.”

Robb rolled his eyes to the ceiling.

“Any moment is the right moment if you have the guts.”

“Now, this sentence is the type of stuff that makes you sound like a life coach.”

Robb pulled up the blankets, took off his jeans and entered the bed still with the T-shirt he was wearing. He sighed.

“Tell him.”

“I will, I will.”, Jon mumbled quickly.

“And apologize.”, Robb added.

_That never._

 

*

 

Jon leaned on Sam slightly, shoulder to shoulder, a gesture they did ever so often as friends, when tipsy, but that now felt all more forbidden, all more heavy and fruitful with meaning. And he could stay there without fear of seeming in love, because Sam knew it was an act – or better, he thought it was. And he could accidentally brush Sam's neck with his nose and smell the tender mix of soap and sweat.

He would move as soon as he'd feel Sam stiffen or shake imperceptibly.

He didn't want to hurt him, to make it uncomfortable – he was just drugged, addicted to the possibility, to the new little space he obtained between what he could dare before and a new limit.

And a twisted, searing, iron need would rush through his veins, making him selfish.

Sam laughed as his beard tickled his neck.

His eyes were shining.

“C'mon!”, he laughed.

Robb looked at Jon and rolled his eyes in annoyance; Ygritte smiled though with a certain sharp edge to it, and sipped her beer. Sam soon noticed that Jon barely looked at her, though, which comforted him some – maybe it was really just about being judged and he was over it.

Jon, well, Jon was perpetually looking and talking to Sam, or in Sam's direction while staring at the table or floor or food or whatever helped him when shame took over.

Sam, though, seemed to enjoy the play as much as he did.

Perhaps, he liked the idea of not seeming desperately single still.

_Maybe_ , Jon dared to hope,  _he does at least consider me his best friend for real and not just out of absence of others …_

Something stung then and he felt guilty for Theon, who he pushed back like a guard dog; a best friend should encourage their friend to try out with a possible love, not push him into defense. 

He had been selfish.

But how could he be anything else?

With Sam?

His Sam? His beautiful, soft, unaware, too gentle Sam? He couldn't defend himself!

His selfishness, for sure, could be also an armour for him.

And that farce could be a saving grace.

He tried to repeat that to himself, when he saw Sam make a sad smile and wave at the side of them, where Theon Greyjoy, at the bar, was drinking like a well. Theon looked back at him, gave a smirk, raised his eyebrows to salute and then returned to drink, ignoring them.

Sam's hand lowered slowly and sadly.

Jon's heart clenched painfully.

Robb stood up, without a word, and moved to the bar.

Jon found himself wanting to comfort Sam, to tell him anything, that probably Theon was just there to hit on girls, that it didn't mean he was ignoring him and not being his friend anymore – but Sam's eyes were shining, watery, and his eyelashes were wet. But he laughed all the same, and smiled at Jon all the same.

And he should have said the truth.

But that selfishness was awakened every time Sam smiled and he hated himself and burnt his own stomach, but he couldn't find in himself the correctness to tell the truth and lose Sam forever.

“A star & tonic.”

Theon chuckled, smirking, but didn't turn towards him, “You struck me more as a beer type.”

“I'm trying to get tipsy. - Robb explained, sitting down – So maybe I get the guts to speak.”

Theon's smirk seemed sharper, “Has your brother sent you to threaten me?”

“No. - he smiled – Not at all.”

Theon seemed suspicious, “You know you're related to a major asshole, right?”

“It's one of his best qualities.”

Theon snorted and then turned to him, while the bartender gave Robb his drink – and Robb brought it to his mouth and started sipping it.

He played with the citrus wheel, a bit.

“You know, when we were kids he was even worse. Constantly gloomy.”

“...as in, now he's not?”, Theon asked, frowning while smiling.

“As in, imagine it worse.”

“How did you survive?”

“Compartmentalizing.”

“Admirable.”, Theon said, smiling into his drink.

There was a warm note of flirtiness in his voice, but Robb didn't dare to hope.

“But he's a good guy. - Robb added – He means no harm, he's just... indelicate and dumb.”

Theon shook his head, “He seems smart enough to me, he's simply blind to what he doesn't want to see.”

“Perhaps. - Robb swallowed – But this doesn't mean that you...”

Theon smiled and stood up to leave.

“Look, pretty boy. - he smirked, his eyes lingering on Robb's lips a second before his glance got harder and he moved away – Tell him nobody is going to steal Sam from him, if that's what you're here trying to grasp, but people shouldn't take the fall and become collateral damage just because he doesn't have the balls to ask a boy out.”

Robb moved towards him with his arm, “Wai–”

But Theon moved away, quickly.

And Robb bit his lips to the pulp, slamming his fist on the counter and wondering why he couldn't say what he really thought out loud either.

 

*

 

“You need to fucking tell him.”, Robb said to Jon, as soon as they arrived home.

Jon turned, blinking, eyes wide, perplexed.

“Is this why the fuck you behaved like a grumpy eighty year old the whole evening? - he scoffed – Because the frown doesn't suit you.”

“I'm not grumpy, Jon, I'm pissed.”, he shouted.

At that, Jon had to look at him and take him seriously.

Robb was more prone to anger than sadness, that was true, but he was not exactly choleric. He would get angry, forget easily, get over it quickly, for him to have such an upset tone, he must have had this stuff boiling in him for days if not weeks. 

“Are you teakettleing again?”

“Teakettle my arse. - he yelled – It's since the start I told you this is not the way you should behave and you keep ignoring me.”

“I'm not Bran or Rickon, I don't follow your opinions like rules!”

“They don't fo...”

“You're just bossy.”

“I'm bossy? - Robb's voice almost cracked and it came out all breathy – You're hurting people.”

“Who? - Jon snorted – Theon Greyjoy? Big deal.”

Robb stared at him, wide eyes, eyebrows furrowed, lips parted.

In horror, disgust.

“Who are you? - he whispered, almost hissing, as if Jon's mere presence burned him – Because the Jon I know wouldn't say this type of shit.”

Jon swallowed dry, gulping nervously, and looked away.

He couldn't deny that those words sunk a bit too deep.

“Sorry, I'm a disappointment, I guess.”

“Don't passive-aggresse me, Jon. - Robb warned him – You're behaving like a fucking avalanche, taking down people and not caring for it. Why? How do you feel entitled to d...?”

“Because I love him, okay?”, he shouted, teary-eyed and jaw tense in anger.

Robb blinked, “...how can you say you love Sam, when you're so terrified of him deciding he'll like Theon that you separate him from a friend?”

“Because... I... I mean _did you see him_?”

“Yeah. .- Robb nodded, still angry – I saw him. He's amazing. - he shook his head – But your self-deprecation is not an excuse to make him go away... especially when he clearly is not into Sam.”

Jon blinked.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, you blind idiot.”, Robb groaned, trying to hide how hurt he was by the perspective of Theon liking Jon instead.

Jon smiled then sighed.

“But what if Sam does...”

“If he did, he wouldn't have let you drive him away. - Robb mumbled, now looking away as simply seeing Jon was starting to make him sizzle with green jealousy – But, even if it were, you have to accept it and let him. You can't force people to love you.”

Jon looked down and shook his head, then his voice came out like thorns and acid.

“It's easy for you to say, Robb. When did people ever not love you?”

Robb widened his eyes and let out a tired groan, before walking upstairs, not giving Jon an answer.

He didn't have the strength to be honest about that. Especially because he didn't feel he had permission to tell Jon of Theon's unrequited feelings.

Jon was left in the blue living room, dimly lit by moonlight, in a comfortable, wet and familial darkness, made of fragile shades running on a space he had known all his life.

He looked at his mobile, at the photo he and Sam took that Summer after acing their exams.

They had been friends since so little, Sam had not even been sure why Jon would want a photo with him.

… poor fool.

Jon felt his eyes sting and he put away the mobile, deep in his jeans pocket. As if, with that, it would have stopped reaching his conscience.

 

*

 

“Greyjoy!”

Theon rolled his eyes so far back into his skull for a moment he wondered if he could have sprained them or do a three hundred sixty degree turn.

He turned towards the direction of the damn voice with the most done look ever, but he didn't forget to wear his grin, little armor of teeth and sharp edges.

“Snow. - he said, unimpressed but with a thrill of cheerful hate in his voice – How can I help you? Still trying to figure out how genitals work?”

Jon sucked his palate, internally screaming and wondering why he was trying.

_Sam, right. Sam._

And there was no better reason.

“I wanted to tell you Sam kind of misses you, so... - he shrugged, trying to play cool and failing – Maybe, why don't you come to study with us this afternoon?”

Theon frowned, confused.

“...you're inviting me?”

Jon groaned as if it hurt him deeply. And he squinted his eyes and let out a strangled, “You're Sam's friend and... I suppose this means we should at least try to coexist.”

Theon blinked.

“Are you on drugs?”

“I'm being nice!”

“Exactly.”

“Jerk. - Jon shook his head – God knows what Robb finds in you.”

Theon then sprint-jumped close to Jon and held his wrist, eyes wide, “Repeat that?”

Jon stared at him, confused and vaguely grossed out by being touched by him, “My stepbrother? Robb? I don't know, he's super defensive of you, in all of this he kept pushing me to worry about you.”

Theon blinked some times and slowly his grin turned into a wide, tender, honest smile.

And Jon couldn't help but notice he looked like a completely different person all of a sudden.

Theon bit his lips slightly, “Well, ah, that's nice of him.”

Jon frowned, staring at him, “Dude.”

“Yes?”

“...you like him too? - Jon wrinkled his nose, as if he had just seen the most disgusting thing on earth – What the fuck?”

“What? - Theon raised an eyebrow – He's exactly my type?”

“And Sam?”

“Sam is a friend? - Theon said, scoffing a bit, before, then actually biting his tongue a bit – I mean, a--- classmate, I guess.”

Jon blinked, traumatized.

“You both... have been so insecure this whole time with this fucking on-going friendcrush because you can't say the word friend without panic? Like how much of emotionally deprived misfits are you two?

Theon's jaw tensed and his cheeks got stained dark, while he backed a bit.

“I don't think you can criticize me, mister ‘I ask my crush out on a fake date because I can't hit on them’.”

Jon tried to reply but he had to admit the point and nodded to himself.

“I guess.”

Theon breathed in, then looked away, waiting for his face to return to a normal color, before clearing his voice and giving Jon his hand without any comment.

Jon was tempted to ask if it was a peace offer just to tease Theon. And Theon would have had the same temptation in his place.

But Jon decided to be the better person and held it tight.

“By the way. - Theon added, smirking – You should really tell Sam how you feel.”

Jon seemed doubtful, “So you can laugh at my humiliation?”

“Snow, Snow, Snow. You're blind as a bat.”, he chuckled.

 

*

 

Jon smiled awkwardly and Sam blinked, perplexed.

“Jon? - he asked, low-voiced – What are you doing at my house? - he looked back – You know how my dad is.”

“I... - a smile again, shy this time – I needed to tell you something and texts are not really the best way.”

Sam frowned but came out and closed the door behind himself.

“Let's take a walk, then, so we have some peace.”

“Okay, but not for too long. - Jon said, with a little pride in his nervous voice, as he tried to sound triumphant but embarrassment was still growing inside him like ivy – We have a guest at the study session.”

“Uh? Robb?”

Jon shook his head, “Theon.”

Sam's eyes lit up in joy and his face turned bright as the sun.

“Really? How? He didn't reply to my texts all week.”

“I apologized. - Jon explained through the pain of admitting it – I behaved poorly.”

Sam smiled, curved his eyebrows and shook his head in disbelief and happiness.

“You did … for me?”

Jon scratched his nape, embarrassed, and he started walking slower without noticing, as if he wished for time to stop or as if it just felt heavier now that he had to act.

He cleared his voice.

“I have to tell you something, Sam.”

Sam, though, didn't seem to be paying attention to his words.

He was staring at his house, making sure they couldn't be seen, that they were enough far away from it. He walked fast, nervous, his cheeks all red. He looked at Jon too, at times, but didn't seem to be listening, as if the words in his mind were loud enough.

“Sam?”

“Jon, we need to stop the fake dating thing.”, he said, all too quickly, smashing the words together, with a way too high-pitched voice.

Jon blinked, gulped.

“Is it your dad? Did he find out?”, he asked, his eyes scanning Sam's face and arms for any bruise or cut or sign of...

Sam shook his head.

“No, I... - he sucked his lips – I don't know how to say this, you're my best friend and... - his eyes got all watery and he felt his mouth tremble – I'm afraid you won't want me anymore if I say it.”

Jon threw himself on Sam, holding his arms, nailing their eyes together, staring deep.

“Nothing, nothing you say will make me want you less, clear? - he almost shouted, worry piercing through his throat, sorrow left behind, in the corner – Are you alright? Did I hurt you?”

Sam didn't reply.

He just moved forward.

His lips met Jon's, clutching and catching them.

Jon felt his lips buzzing, burning – and as Sam tried to move away, he pulled him closer, opening his mouth. Sam's lips were so soft, they felt unreal. Sam's shivers were candy-coated frenzy. 

And all of Sam tasted like a dream.

Sam smiled, then pushed further too, trying to move his tongue into Jon, who welcomed his clumsy attempted – and it was sloppy, and childish, and they clashed a of couple times, and Jon tried to guide Sam slightly through it, before Sam took over with confidence. 

And they were both smiling like idiots, panting and making out as if they were starved for it.

 

*

 

Jon:

…...............................ok

 

Jon:

…...............................maybe perhaps if i'm not dreaming this

 

Jon:

WE KISSED

 

Jon:

WE KISSSSSSSSED GOD HES SO CUTE HES SO GOODwe went to get a hot chocolate at the bar hes in the bathroom Im freaking out hes so cute text when i can 

 

Robb glanced at the phone and laughed, snorting.

“Well, seems like I did a good job.”

Theon stretched next to him, kissing his cheek, “What a good boy.”

Robb let out a low giggle and kissed Theon back, caressing his hair, and pulling him close. Theon bit Robb's bottom lip and grinned as Robb groaned, lustful, at the pull.

As he let it slip, Theon didn't miss Robb's look of hunger.

“I think you deserve a prize for being such a good brother, you know?”, he whispered, warm.

Robb smiled wide, “Not that I'm against a second, but... - he held Theon tight, their bodies brushing lightly again – Shouldn't you go out of the bed?”

Theon sucked his lips and smiled, “I have the sensation that my study session will be cancelled, to be honest.”

He put his arms around Robb's neck and smirked.

“Plus, your bed is so nice... it would be a shame not to exploit it more.”

“I see.”, Robb closed his eyes and moved closer to Theon's lips.

“Ah-a. - Theon put a finger on Robb's mouth – Before, I want you to do it again.”

Robb rolled his eyes back, groaning, “What a groupie.”

“Please... - he drew circles with his index finger on Robb's chest – _Sir_.”

Robb licked his lips and, pulling Theon closer, sang, “ _Yes, I'll admit that I'm a fool for you – because you're mine, I walk the line_ ...”

 

 


End file.
